


We Are Not Ashes

by oathkeeping



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst and Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Post A New Hope, Team Bonding, bodhi rook week 2k17, like 75 percent of rogue one fic out there...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-22 21:40:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10705674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oathkeeping/pseuds/oathkeeping
Summary: Yavin 4 is in full celebration. The medals ceremony had been a thing – earlier, Bodhi standing amongst the other members of Rogue one, feeling his knees shake (and not just out of the fact that he’s not used to the mechanical leg that he had been given) – in front of the crowd.





	We Are Not Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 1 of Bodhi Rook week on tumblr with the theme of Team Bonding. I love these guys. I love the team and their dynamic. I didn't get to write as much for the week as I'd hoped, but I did get this out. 
> 
> Yes, the title is a quote from "The Walking Dead" 
> 
> You can hit me up on tumblr [here.](http://bodhirocking.tumblr.com/) Come chat with me about star wars, or drop me a prompt.

Yavin 4 is in full celebration. The medals ceremony had been a thing – earlier, Bodhi standing amongst the other members of Rogue one, feeling his knees shake (and not just out of the fact that he’s not used to the mechanical leg that he had been given) – in front of the crowd. They’re more there for the young hero that had taken the shot that had destroyed the Death Star. That’s fine by him. It’s fine by all of them, he can see it in the set of Jyn’s mouth. Chirrut is, amongst the four of them, the only one who smiles and waves from their place on the stage.

If the man feels any unease about it, he doesn’t show it. Cassian, due to his spy status had received his with less fanfare, privately. Bodhi wishes they would have done the same with them.

After Princess Leia presents him with a medal with a smile and word of thanks – and moves on – soon everyone on the stage is being ushered off into a second hall where a party erupts in full swing.

Bodhi doesn’t know who brought the alcohol, or who presses glasses into his hand, but it’s not enough to feel less out of place. This room full of people. He knows the Death Star is gone. He should be _happy_! _Excited_ , and feeling hopeful for a future where they had delivered a significant strike against the Empire, and would perhaps now stand a chance against it.

But he doesn’t know where he fits here. He _wants_ to stay. But there had already been some comments made, some remarks and whispers, he wasn’t deaf, or blind to some of the looks he got. He wasn’t Jyn – who most people were smart enough not to speak against her father, once she broke a man’s jaw for it.

_Would he be welcome?_

Would the others grow _tired_ of him, the pilot who’d barely managed to bring _anyone_ back from Scarif? Who forgets things, has nightmares often, fearful… he’s not brave or strong like the others. Can’t _fight_ like Jyn, he doesn’t have Chirrut’s _wisdom_ or _faith_ , _barely_ knows how to use a blaster like Baze. Cassian exudes _confidence_ and _strength_ and _intelligence_ from years as a spy – he’d be an awful spy. No _tactical_ knowledge like Kaytu.

And he’s aware that both Cassian and Kaytu are better pilots then him.

It’s in his melancholy that he walks out of the hall. The base is rarely this empty. He hasn’t been here long – a few weeks, only the last one he’d been allowed out of the med-bay. They’re getting ready to evacuate.

Most people are back in the hall. _Good_. The night air is still warm. It’s always warm, but compared to the claustrophobic feeling of the hall, it’s welcome. The balcony is empty, when he sits down against the wall – staring upwards.

Last week there had been a giant star in the sky. Thanks to the work of a farm boy turned pilot turned Jedi, there wasn’t one any longer. It was dust.

He barely notices the footsteps approaching, and it’s not until there’s a sturdy warmth sitting next to him does he look over. Jyn still wears the tight expression that she’d had during the ceremony, but her eyes are brighter now. If it was because she’d been drinking, or something else Bodhi didn’t know.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” He replies. 

For a moment, the two of them sit – it’s not an awkward silence. It’s companionable.

“Oh goodness, I wasn’t aware that this balcony was occupied. Baze! Why didn’t you tell me?” Chirrut’s voice comes from around the corner, and for a man that had only last week been in a medically induced coma, he doesn’t show it. He still moves swiftly towards them, Baze following like a sullen shadow. There’s a hint of a smile at the other man’s mouth. Bodhi had noticed the man seemed to smile more now, or maybe he had just never noticed it before? He looks at Bodhi with not distrust, but warmth. Not the kind reserved for Chirrut, but for Jyn and Cassian as well. 

To think that two weeks ago he’d wanted him dead. 

“I didn’t know.” He’s lying, of course he knew that they’d find others out here. But nobody calls him on it, as Bodhi scoots over, followed by Jyn, and the other two men sit down next to them, against the wall. 

Now they’re just waiting for –

– loud mechanical footsteps accompanied by an automated voice, an accented one answers the droid’s, brushing off his questions as both Cassian and Kaytu appear.

“Might we join you?” To answer, Bodhi gestures towards his other side. Cassian sits with a grunt – he had to wear a brace for the injuries to his spine, his back still pains him from the fall – and it probably would remain with him.

Sitting here in the quiet, amongst these people, he feels somewhat more at ease.

“So, what happens now?” Jyn asks the question that’s been on Bodhi’s mind since he’d woken up in the med bay. He fidgets with his frayed sleeve. “Well… the Empire is still out there… that’s not going away anytime soon.” 

From around him there are a few nods and mutters in agreement, and he continues. “I think I want to stay. Join officially. If they’ll have me.” Next to him, Cassian clasps his shoulder. “They will. The Rebellion always needs more pilots, especially ones with as much bravery and spirit as you.”

He opens his mouth to speak, to protest, but Jyn cuts him off. “You know we couldn’t have done this without you, right? My father built the flaw, but you were the one who got the message to us. Got us on Eadu, and then on Scarif–”

“–then you got us off.” Baze adds.

“Well, not _me_.” Kaytu grumbles

“Shut it.” Jyn doesn’t look away from Bodhi, but her eyes shine with an amusement that he hasn’t seen much of since he’s known her. They’re all still here. They believe in _him_. 

Maybe it’s about time he believed in himself, too. Like he believes in them. He smiles.

“So it’s settled then? We’re staying?” Obviously, Cassian is – Jyn is nodding, and Baze and Chirrut are both adding their support. 

The air seems to change after that. Chirrut and Baze share stories, that have the others laughing. Kaytu hovers somewhere between disapproval and protectiveness, standing in the doorway to discourage anyone who might happen by.

Nobody does, or if they do – they hear the sounds of a smaller party and sees the droid standing sentry and go their own way.

Two weeks ago, there had been a star in the sky. It took so much from the people sitting here, in the lone balcony on the base overlooking the jungle. They’d faced impossible odds together and had been successful in helping to get it destroyed.

Rogue One wasn’t gone. They were still here.

And when they were needed, they would be ready. 


End file.
